Unfinished Business
by Mizvoy
Summary: Five years after Voyager's return, Janeway is caught in a terrorist attack JC Post Endgame


Disclaimer: Voyager and these characters belong to Paramount. No infringement intended.  
  
Summary: Five years after Voyager's return in Endgame, Janeway and Chakotay meet again. J/C  
  
Unfinished Business (PG)  
  
By Mizvoy  
  
Admiral Kathryn Janeway heard a soft chirp. She turned down the classical music and listened again, wondering who would call her at 0100. She heard the chirp a second time and twisted in her desk chair to face the computer monitor. She smiled in anticipation when she saw that the communication was from Utopia Planetia.  
  
"Tom Paris! How did you know I'd be awake at this hour?"  
  
"It isn't 0300 yet, is it?"  
  
Kathryn chuckled. "Old habits are hard to break. How's the new baby?"  
  
"Owen? He's great. He's gained two pounds this week. You'll have to come see him."  
  
"I'll make a point of it. How does Miral like him?"  
  
"Oh, she's quite the little mother. She rocks him when we'll let her and loves to give him a bottle. She'll be five soon, you know."  
  
"Yes. Very thoughtful of her to arrive as she did, making it so easy to keep track of how long we've been home."  
  
"She's been asking about you."  
  
"You don't have to tell me that to make me feel guilty for not visiting. How's B'Elanna?"  
  
"Right now? Asleep." A soft cooing could be heard in the background. "It's my turn for the midnight snack. Hold on." He disappeared for a moment, returning with a tiny bundle that he held up to the screen. "What do you think of him?"  
  
Kathryn studied the screen, his little red face and faint forehead ridges so endearingly similar to Miral's that she wanted to snuggle him and feel his soft downy head. "He looks adorable. I can't wait to spoil him."  
  
"It's a short shuttle ride from Indiana to Mars, Admiral."  
  
"Point taken. I'll come soon."  
  
"Great." He shifted the baby to his shoulder. "I didn't call just to make you feel guilty, though. I wanted to send you something to read."  
  
Kathryn groaned. "What do you think I sit up doing every night, Tom? I'm in the middle of a huge report right this minute."  
  
"I know you read reports, but they're boring. This is very interesting. It's Chakotay's new book."  
  
Her eyes widened. "Really?"  
  
"He sent us the proofs a couple of days ago." A chirping sound interrupted him. "Hold on while I get the bottle."  
  
Kathryn sat back in her chair and took a deep breath. Chakotay's first book, one based on John Kelley's database from the twenty-first century Mars mission, had earned him the respect of both the historical and anthropological communities. This one, if it was as well done, would cement his future in the academic world. She smiled to think how well he'd done since their return.  
  
Tom reappeared, the baby cradled in one arm, a bottle firmly placed in the baby's mouth. "He found the Red Chert colony, Admiral."  
  
She sat up, suddenly interested. He'd been so quiet, so mysterious about his work the last few years that she'd finally learned better than to ask him about it. She should've expected that he was hiding something big like this. "That's what he's been up to all this time?"  
  
"He spent a whole year tracking down vague references to the ship and created the probable course they took when they left the rest of the Native American ships. Then he followed it, looking for potential colony sites along the way."  
  
Kathryn nodded. He'd told her of Red Chert during one of their many long conversations on Voyager. Red Chert had been the name of one of the ships Chakotay's ancestors had taken when they emigrated from Earth in the twenty-second century. However, it had broken off from the rest of the fleet to take a different route. Never heard from again, the ship was believed destroyed and its crew lost. Until now, apparently.  
  
"What did he find?"  
  
"Well, I don't want to spoil the book for you, but suffice it to say that it wasn't a Class M planet. At least, it wasn't any more."  
  
Kathryn shook her head. "What?"  
  
"Failing to find a Class M planet on their probable course, he looked for one that might have been damaged by meteoric bombardment or volcanic activity or some other cosmic disaster."  
  
"Clever."  
  
"I thought so. Anyway, he finally found it. Beta Rho Six. He's spent the last three years or so excavating the colony site and compiling the data. He didn't tell anyone about it because he didn't want to spoil the surprise." He reached down and tapped some keys. "I'm transmitting it now."  
  
"What class planet is it now?" she asked.  
  
"Class K."  
  
Kathryn's head snapped up in disbelief. "He's spent the last two years on a class K planet?"  
  
"Kind of helps explain why Seven left him, doesn't it?"  
  
She tried to imagine the living conditions on the planet, the pressure suits, the pressurized domes, the incredible cold. She shivered at the thought. "It must have been awful."  
  
"What scholars go through in the pursuit of knowledge," Tom quipped. "Listen, I've got to burp the little fellow. Come see us this week, right?"  
  
"This week, maybe. If not, next week for sure. But don't go to any trouble."  
  
"Aye, Admiral. Enjoy the book."  
  
She thanked him and closed down the monitor, pausing to download the book a second time onto a PADD. "Holly," she said, turning to the golden retriever who was stretched out on the sofa, gazing at her owner with liquid brown eyes, "let's get ready for bed. Mom has a new book to read."  
  
Holly yawned, stretched, and then followed her mistress down the hall.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Chakotay knew he would never take the environment of an m-class planet for granted again. He hadn't blamed Seven of Nine for balking at the life he led on Beta Rho Six, but he also knew that her departure was the best for both of them. As much as they'd needed each other when they'd returned to Federation space, that need had come to an end fairly quickly. He was glad that she had found the courage to explore her own interests and find a person who was more compatible with her reserved and distant personality. The chance to immerse himself in work that was completely his own was more than enough of an escape for him.  
  
However, just as his notoriety as Voyager's first officer had come to the end, Chakotay experienced a new surge of interest as the author of a book that answered one of the most perplexing mysteries of the modern era. The disappearance of the Red Chert colonists had been as well-known and perplexing as the loss of Amelia Earhart in the twentieth century. To be the man who solved the mystery beyond a shadow of doubt had created a sensation in the scholarly ranks and opened the door to a new career.  
  
In fact, he was spending a few weeks relaxing and contemplating the half dozen offers he'd received for professorships at some of the best Federations centers of higher learning. Most were willing to let him name his salary, teaching load, and research focus. It was a heady feeling to know that his future was secure and that he was a success in his own right.  
  
And yet . . .  
  
He was restless. Perhaps it was the progression of women he'd gone through since Seven left that bothered him. He'd never thought of himself as the type of man who would indulge in casual affairs, but an honest look at his life over the last three years showed that he'd done just that. He would work on Beta Rho Six for a period for a few months, and then he would take a couple of weeks off for a much-needed vacation, usually at a popular resort somewhere nearby. Once there, he seemed destined to meet a woman who was also alone and who was more than willing to spend some time with him--with the tacit understanding that it was a brief fling that would not survive their stay. The process had worked fine while he was still obsessed with his excavation, but now he felt lonely and irritable, realizing that he'd wasted his time.  
  
On a whim, he called his oldest friend, B'Elanna Torres.  
  
"Where are you, Chakotay?" she wanted to know. "There's a new someone I want you to meet." She held up six-month old Owen Paris for inspection.  
  
"He's getting big already," he replied, wondering how time had gotten away from him. "I'm at starbase 347, trying to decide what to do next."  
  
"Do next? I figured you'd be starting a book tour. Did you know you're on the best-seller list for earth?"  
  
"I heard that," he gave her a shy grin. "It's very gratifying."  
  
"Everyone's talking about the book." She laughed. "Even the admiral."  
  
"I'm surprised she found the time to read anything but reports." He regretted the petty sound in his voice and hoped B'Elanna hadn't heard it.  
  
"She's changed a lot in the last few years, Chakotay. I think you'd like her. She's much more relaxed, more open."  
  
"That's good to hear." Of all people on Voyager, he knew they strain she'd endured for seven years. He'd tried to help her with it, but she'd always closed him out. Finally, he'd simply given up hope that she'd ever simply be herself again.  
  
"You know, I think you're the reason the admiral broke up with Craig."  
  
"I beg your pardon?" He knew that Kathryn Janeway had been involved with a writer by the name of Craig Addison for the last several years and had steeled himself to hear that they were going to make their relationship permanent. He'd always thought it ironic that Addison, like Chakotay, was a historian who studied and wrote about cultural issues, and he'd always sensed a little competition from them man when they'd met. "How did I do that?"  
  
"Tom sent her the galleys of your new book, and she went on and on about it until Craig blew up and walked out." She shifted the baby and began to pat him on the back. "I guess his ego just couldn't stand being compared to you any more."  
  
"Compared to me?"  
  
"Well, I'm sure Kathryn didn't do it deliberately, but your name comes up often when I'm around her, and I'm sure Craig resented that. She's very proud of you, you know. For some reason, she thinks you can do no wrong."  
  
He nodded, remembering the touching message he'd found waiting on his computer a few months earlier just after she'd finished reading the proof of his book. "Chakotay, it's the best book I've read in years, bar none. You deserve every accolade you're going to get for this," she'd told him, her face glowing with pride, her eyes twinkling as she added a gentle tease. "Just don't forget us little people."  
  
Chakotay smiled at the memory, and then said, "She thinks everyone from Voyager is the best, B'Elanna, not just me. Sometimes I wonder if she's blind or just foolish."  
  
B'Elanna grew serious. "You're wrong, Chakotay. She sees everything quite clearly. She loves us, that's all."  
  
He glanced away, afraid to let her see the look of sadness in his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken privately with Kathryn, or the last time he'd thought of her as anything other than the captain. "The book tour starts in Mexico City next month with a display of some of the Red Chert artifacts," he said, abruptly changing the subject. "I hope you and Tom will come."  
  
"Are you kidding? We wouldn't miss it."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Kathryn Janeway checked the clock for the second time in less than ten minutes and sighed in exasperation. It seemed to her that the clock had slowed down to a crawl.  
  
Her aide chuckled. "Looking forward to the exhibition, Admiral?"  
  
"Diane, this must be the longest day on record," she agreed, smiling as she leaned back in her desk chair. "Are you sure the planet hasn't slowed down its rotation?"  
  
"You could go early. I'm sure the professor would love to give you a private tour."  
  
"I need to finish this first," Kathryn insisted, sitting up and studying the half-finished report on her computer screen. As much as she wanted to see Chakotay, she had to get this report done and forwarded to the chief of staff. She'd returned from a frustrating two months on Cariota early that morning and was struggling to finish her after-action report before she took a few well-deserved days off. "I have a feeling that the precarious peace with the Cariota is going to come to a violent end, and soon."  
  
"I hope you're wrong."  
  
"So do I." But I'm not, she thought, remembering the tension filled last weeks of her stay on the planet. In spite of her efforts to defuse the conflict between the Federation and Cariota, the situation continued to heat up. When she left the planet, she'd brought most of the embassy staff's family with her, just to be on the safe side.  
  
Chakotay's subspace comm three weeks earlier had come just as she'd received the first of a half dozen threats on her life. She could still remember the relief she'd felt to see his friendly face on the comm screen, the relief and so much more.  
  
"Chakotay!" she'd said, thinking how much she wished he were with her, how much safer she'd feel to know he was watching her back. "What a pleasant surprise!"  
  
"I know it's been awhile," he'd admitted, his devastating dimples on full display. "I've been busy."  
  
"I've missed you." There was a time when she couldn't have admitted that to him, when she couldn't have admitted to herself. In fact, it took nearly two years and countless hours of counseling before had she been able to finally divest herself of the captain's mask she'd worn for seven years in the Delta Quadrant. Just about the time she'd started feeling normal again, Chakotay had disappeared. "I loved your book."  
  
He'd blushed slightly, and she'd caught her breath in surprise at the way her heart was racing at the mere sight of him. "I got your message, Kathryn, and it meant a lot. I want you to be proud of me."  
  
She'd frowned at his words, concerned that he'd misunderstood how much she had cared for him, how much she had admired him. "Chakotay, you have nothing to prove, as far as I'm concerned. You convinced me years ago that you are the best man I've ever met."  
  
His eyes had widened in surprise. "You mean first officer, don't you?"  
  
"I meant exactly what I said."  
  
They had stared at each other across the light years, and in an instant all the distance between them had disappeared. For many years, when this magnetism had surfaced, one of them had deliberately diffused the tension, blunting it in favor of a less intense emotion by breaking the intimate contact in favor of a friendly smile. But now there was no need to soften it, and the power of the attraction made it impossible for her to breathe. "Chakotay," she whispered.  
  
"Kathryn," he'd started, seemingly as stunned as she was by the sudden longing that washed over him. He repeated her name, his voice a murmur, "Kathryn."  
  
"When can we meet?" she'd asked, acknowledging their desire as explicitly as she could, laughing to see the glow of expectancy in his eyes. "I think we have some unfinished business to take care of."  
  
He'd nodded in agreement, swallowing before he trusted his voice. "The exhibit of my findings opens in Mexico City next month. Will you be back by then?"  
  
"I'll make the necessary arrangements."  
  
The memory of that call still made her shake her head. They had talked as often as they could in the intervening weeks, and the anticipation of being together again had grown steadily until she felt like a teenager going to the prom. Those few calls had reminded both of them of the attraction and affection they had for each other, only now, for the first time, they could act upon those feelings. She shivered to think that the day was here and in just a few hours she would see him in person . . . if she could only concentrate long enough to finish this report. She sighed and picked up the PADD.  
  
Her aide burst into Kathryn's office. "Admiral, there's been a disturbance in the foyer of the building. A young woman was demanding to see you, but the guards wouldn't let her through. She sent you this. She said it was a matter of life and death."  
  
Kathryn took the small package Diane offered her. "Was she Cariotan?"  
  
"They didn't say."  
  
Kathryn opened the package and read the paper it contained. "Diane, call security and clear the building. This claims that the Cariotan rebels are going to destroy the building in less than 10 minutes."  
  
* * * * *  
  
The Museo de la Historia Moderna was eerily silent as Chakotay toured the Red Chert exhibits. He'd dreamed of finding artifacts like these and displaying them for all to see since his early years at the academy. There were beautiful rugs, pottery, clothing, and tiny models of villages in cases throughout the main floor. The grand opening had been a complete success, including coverage by all the Federation newsvids. Presidents of six different universities had attended, and all of them wanted him to work for them.  
  
Chakotay knew he should be happy with the success of the evening, but he was unsettled and anxious by Kathryn's failure to appear. She would have a good reason for not coming, he knew, but that didn't lessen his disappointment.  
  
"Moping doesn't become you, Chakotay." B'Elanna Torres leaned against a doorway watching him.  
  
"I'm not moping."  
  
"You should be walking on air. You can name the university you want to work for and go anywhere in the Federation for your next dig. Why the sad face?"  
  
He sighed, unwilling to admit the truth and tell her about Kathryn's broken promise to attend. "I'm just worn out."  
  
"I saw you watching the door all night. Were you hoping Seven would show up?"  
  
"No. She sent me a message saying she couldn't make it." He paused in front of an intricately beaded vest, studying the beautiful handwork. "I was hoping more of the Voyager crew would be here. I miss them."  
  
B'Elanna snorted. "Maybe you should have come to the five year reunion. Or any of the previous reunions, for that matter."  
  
His head snapped up. He felt guilty about his absences, but he had always been in deep space and in the middle of some crucial explorations when the anniversary came around. And he'd never been able to make himself show up. "I'm sorry about that, you know."  
  
She walked over and slipped an arm around his waist. "Why haven't you come? Is it because you and Seven broke up? To be honest with you, nobody expected that to last."  
  
"That may have been part of it," he admitted, although he suspected it had more to do with the captain than the former Borg drone. "But it was also a need to get out on my own. I put the ship and crew ahead of everything else for so many years that I was just selfish once we got back."  
  
Her face lit up. "It's the admiral. You didn't attend because of her."  
  
"Kathryn?" Had she read his mind? "Why would you say that?"  
  
"Because she did the same thing--put the ship and crew first." They started walking toward the exit. "I know you two didn't exactly part on the best of terms. She wasn't thrilled to learn about you and Seven. She told me that she felt like her brother was dating her daughter."  
  
Chakotay laughed. "I never thought of it that way. But, no. We never argued about that."  
  
"Then what was it? Something's happened between you."  
  
"What makes you think that Kathryn and I had a falling out?"  
  
"For seven years, Chakotay, you were each other's closest friend." At his scornful look, she grabbed his arm. "Don't deny it. Who else could she turn to out there? Tuvok? Tom? Seven? You two spent hours together, and you were a formidable team. And I know that all those dinners weren't just spent going over reports. We get home, and the two of you don't even stay in touch. Explain that to me."  
  
He looked away. Their relationship was simply too complicated to explain. They had both wanted more, much more, but their chance to be together seemed to have evaporated in the pressure of their jobs. And, contrary to popular belief, it isn't easy to erase seven years of history and start over. "I can't explain it, B'Elanna. I guess we just weren't the friends everyone thought we were."  
  
"You were looking for the admiral tonight, not Seven! You're disappointed that Kathryn didn't make it. Admit it."  
  
He scowled, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. "Do you know how tired she and I got of the crew's constant speculation about our relationship? A captain and first officer are in a business partnership, B'Elanna. She and I worked together well because we had to, because we had no choice. Does that mean that we would be compatible together when the situation changes?"  
  
"Are you asking me that question, Chakotay, or yourself?"  
  
The lights began to go dark as they walked toward the entrance where Tom Paris waited for them. Chakotay was staying in San Francisco, so they had planned to walk to the nearest transport station and beam back together.  
  
"It's about time," Tom complained. "I want to go watch the newsvids."  
  
"Why?" his wife wondered. "You were here!"  
  
"Not the vids of this, silly," he said, guiding her toward the door. "The vids from Starfleet headquarters. Lombarde Hall was bombed by Cariota terrorists just after sundown tonight."  
  
B'Elanna stopped in her tracks. "Lombarde Hall? Isn't that where Kathryn's office is located?"  
  
The three friends stared at each other in suprise. Seconds later, they sprinted for the nearest transporter station.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The closest available transport site was nearly a mile away from Lombarde Hall, yet Chakotay could smell smoke as soon as his beam in was complete. He hurried down the street toward Starfleet Headquarters, chastising himself for being upset with Kathryn. She wouldn't have forgotten. He should have known that only a serious complication would prevent her from keeping her promise.  
  
The closer they came to the disaster area, the more congested the streets were. The explosion had reminded the San Francisco citizens of the Breen attack during the Dominion War, and many of them had escaped their homes to go to shelters until the problem resolved itself. In light of the chaos surrounding him, Chakotay was relieved that Tom had thought to contact his father, Admiral Paris, and make arrangements to get onto Starfleet property.  
  
Security patrols had sealed off access to unauthorized personnel, and so Chakotay, B'Elanna, and Tom made their way to the main gate to get through the emergency area. As they wound through the crowd toward the control post, Chakotay heard news reporters filing updates with their respective networks.  
  
"Destruction of Lombarde Hall has been reported to be so complete that some witnesses believe it was booby trapped during its recent renovation . . . ."  
  
". . . estimated that up to fifteen persons were killed instantly and dozens were critically injured as the building collapsed in flames. . . ."  
  
"Rumors are circulating that Cariota rebels have already acknowledged responsibility for the explosion, blaming their action on the Federation's 'refusal to bargain in good faith' about the disputed territory . . . ."  
  
They pushed past the press, identified themselves to the security chief, and began to pick their way through the debris toward Archer Hall where Admiral Paris awaited them. They found it impossible not to stare at the pile of smoldering rubble that had once been Lombarde Hall--Starfleet's showplace office designed exclusively for the diplomatic corps. The building had been filled with expensive paneling made with wood from nearly every planet in the Federation--beautiful, but also flammable--the perfect target for disgruntled political foes.  
  
"You two!" Chakotay and Tom looked up to see a medic pointing at them. "Come over here and help me with this litter! There's a triage center in front of Starfleet medical. Take this man there and make sure he's seen quickly." Before they could protest, the man disappeared in the smoke, leaving them with the groaning patient.  
  
"We'd better hurry," Tom said, taking one end of the litter as he quickly assessed the man's condition. "B'Elanna, you lead the way so we don't stumble over something and drop the guy."  
  
Their trip was tortuously slow, but when they arrived at the triage center, two medics took one look at the injured man and carried him directly into the building for immediate treatment. Chakotay, relieved of his burden, looked around at the walking wounded who were awaiting attention, shocked and angered by the senselessness of the attack. This sort of terrorism, intended only to horrify and punish the enemy, had never seemed worthwhile to him. Although he had been a terrorist of sorts with the Maquis, his focus had always been on purely military targets, and his hope had been to create sympathy for his cause, not animosity.  
  
"Look," B'Elanna said, pointing at a neat row of blanketed bodies. "Those must be the people who didn't make it."  
  
Chakotay felt his heart thundering in his chest. Kathryn might be one of the dead, for all he knew, or one of the injured receiving treatment in the medical center. "We have to find Admiral Janeway," he reminded them.  
  
"Let's start with my dad," Tom suggested, heading toward Archer Hall. "I imagine he'll know where she is."  
  
Chakotay hung behind, staring back at the people in the triage area who were huddled in pain awaiting help. A small, dirt covered person who had been slumped against the side of the building was struggling to her feet, her eyes fixed upon him. Her head was wrapped in a blood soaked bandage, and one arm was in a haphazard sling as she took a few unsteady steps toward him. He could see where tears and sweat had created rivulets of grime down her cheeks, but, to him, she was the most beautiful site he'd ever seen. Kathryn Janeway.  
  
"Chakotay?" she croaked, reaching toward him. "Is that you?"  
  
"Kathryn!" he shouted, moving toward her as he yelled over his shoulder. "Tom! B'Elanna! She's over here!"  
  
She seemed to wilt as he approached her, as if the effort of standing up and walking had been too much for her damaged body to endure. He reached her just as she lost consciousness and caught her before she slumped to the ground. He picked her up and cradled her against his body while Tom did a quick visual scan of her injuries.  
  
"Bring her into the foyer," Tom ordered, heading up the steps into the hospital. "They'll have a medkit I can use to look her over."  
  
The chaos inside the building was indescribable, but Chakotay was able to find a secluded office off the waiting room that had a small sofa in it. B'Elanna helped him arrange her carefully on the cushions. They stepped back while Tom examined her, their arms around each other's waists for comfort.  
  
"Is she bleeding, Tom?" B'Elanna asked.  
  
Tom shook his head. "Maybe internally. She's lost a lot of blood from this gash in her scalp, and I bet she has a nasty concussion. Her left shoulder is separated, which has to hurt like hell. She has some internal injuries and a cracked hip." He lifted the bandage from her forehead. "She'll be fine, but she needs to be seen right away. Stay with her while I find help."  
  
The next hours were a blur of confusion for Chakotay. Kathryn disappeared into the treatment area of the hospital while he, Tom, and B'Elanna did what they could to help the other patients who were still awaiting help. In spite of his repeated efforts, Chakotay had no idea where Kathryn was or how she was doing. Once the influx of injured slowed down, he curled up, exhausted, in a corner of the waiting room and fell into a fitful sleep.  
  
* * * * *  
  
He felt a soft shake of his shoulder. "Excuse me." A nurse was leaning over him, a smile on her face. "Are you Chakotay?"  
  
He nodded and sat up slowly, the muscles in his back protesting because of his awkward sleeping position. A quick glance showed an empty foyer, with all of the patients finally processed. "I must've fallen asleep."  
  
She helped him to his feet. "Admiral Janeway has regained consciousness and insisted I find you before she'll take any further sleep medication. One of the orderlies said you'd fallen asleep down here."  
  
He looked down at his dirty, torn clothing and frowned. "I need to clean up first, don't you think?"  
  
"I'll take you to the employee locker room. You can shower there and replicate some clean clothes."  
  
They walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Chakotay said, "Is the admiral going to be all right?"  
  
"She suffered several serious injuries, but she's expected to fully recover," the nurse said, pausing outside the locker room door. "She's a hero, you know."  
  
"I do know. I served with her on Voyager."  
  
"I mean yesterday. If it hadn't been for her, we would have had many more fatalities."  
  
"What did she do?"  
  
"Well, rumor has it that she got advanced notice of the explosion-- ten minutes or so. She was on the top floor of the building, so she and her aide immediately hit the fire alarm. But that wasn't enough for her. They took the elevator down and tried to alert every floor to evacuate at once. They shouted up and down the halls for everyone to get out quickly before the bomb exploded. There were only a dozen killed, when there were a hundred fifty people in the building." The nurse paused, her eyes sad. "Her aide was one of the fatalities."  
  
Chakotay just shook his head. "It sounds just like something she'd do."  
  
"Well, I know she's stubborn. That's why I came looking for you!" The nurse started down the hall. "When you're finished, come to five west. I'll be waiting for you at the nurse's station."  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Chakotay emerged from the elevator, freshly shaved and showered, wearing clean clothes, and feeling human again. The nurse spied him and led him to a room at the end of the hall. "She's been sleeping off and on," she said as he slipped through the door.  
  
Except for some light that leaked from around the window blinds and the glow of the monitor over the biobed, the room was dim and cool. Chakotay waited inside the door for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, listening to the muted beeps of the monitor and the soft snore of his former captain. He smiled to himself as he remembered how vehemently she'd denied snoring during their two month stay on New Earth.  
  
He crept across the room and stared down at the slight figure. She was pale, her skin almost as white as the sheet that covered her. The gash on her head had been healed, the blood had been cleaned out of her hair, and a cortical stimulator flashed red and green lights on her left temple. Her left arm was wrapped tightly to her body, a muscular regenerator fastened to the shoulder. He could see a lump across her lower abdomen where a bone knitter healed the fractured hip. Clearly, she had taken the brunt of the blast on her left side.  
  
He blinked and looked at her again, seeing this time her long auburn hair fanned across the pillow, the sprinkling of freckles on her face and neck, the hint of cleavage beneath the sheet. She always looked small and fragile when she was out of uniform, but when she was injured she looked like an undernourished waif. He reached for her right hand, holding it loosely in both of his, thinking how many times people underestimated her strength because of her slight build. He wondered for the thousandth time how so much intellect and such a big heart could be held inside one petite body.  
  
She opened her eyes and blinked as she focused on his face. "Chakotay?" She gripped his hand. "You're really here!"  
  
"Yeah, I'm really here. How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like I was caught in a collapsing building," she said with a wry grin. "I don't remember much of it, though. Just a sense of panic."  
  
"Probably a good thing."  
  
"The last thing I remember is trying to finish my work so I could come to Mexico City and see your exhibit. I'm so sorry I missed it."  
  
"Don't worry about that. Except for the fact that I missed seeing you, the exhibit was a complete success."  
  
"I knew it would be." She smiled at him, her eyes warm. "When I woke up awhile ago, I thought that I'd dreamed about seeing you outside the building last night, but the nurse said you'd brought me into the emergency room. What on earth were you doing here?"  
  
"When we heard about the attack on your building, we had to look for you." At her questioning look, he added, "Tom and B'Elanna were there, too."  
  
She sighed and closed her eyes. "I'll have to thank them."  
  
"They say you're a hero, you know." She opened one eye and looked at him skeptically. "They said you went floor to floor forcing people to leave."  
  
"Anyone would've done that." She closed her eyes again, a look of pain crossing her face. "Diane, my aide, is the real hero. She got the warning initially and could've just sounded the alarm and left the building. Instead she came for me and then helped me alert everyone else. She didn't make it."  
  
"I imagine she was just following the example you'd set for her, Kathryn."  
  
She shook her head, and a small tear escaped from the corner of her eye and traveled into her hair. "Was this my fault, Chakotay? Those last weeks with the Cariota, I gave up hope on finding peace. They wouldn't listen to reason, and I lost my concentration. All I could think about was you."  
  
He sat down on the edge of the bed and caressed her face with his hand. "I'm flattered to know you were thinking of me, Kathryn, because you were in my thoughts, too. But I doubt very much that you shirked your duty in any way. You aren't that kind of person. If you gave up hope, it's because the situation was hopeless."  
  
She pressed her cheek into his palm and then opened her eyes. "Why is it never simple for us? Other people meet at work or are introduced by mutual friends. They go out for a drink or for dinner. They take a long walk along a beach. It's happened millions of times without a single complication." She covered his hand with her own. "With us, every time we turn toward each other, duty gets in the way."  
  
"Perhaps the gods are jealous of us? They know how happy we'd be together and do everything they can to keep us apart?"  
  
"Do you think that?" she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "Do you think we'd be happy together?"  
  
"Yes, I do. Don't you?"  
  
She nodded, too overwhelmed with emotion to speak.  
  
His vision blurred with tears. "So, we need for you to get better, Kathryn, so we can have those drinks and take that walk along the beach."  
  
"Can't we just skip all that?" she asked, kissing the palm of his hand. "After all, I've only known you for twelve years."  
  
He laughed. "Aren't you afraid I won't respect you in the morning?" She chuckled and closed her eyes. He could see the exhaustion in her face. "I should let you get some rest."  
  
"Don't leave." She gripped his hand tighter. "I need to know you're here."  
  
He glanced around the room, spotting a chair near the window. "Let me sit with you while you sleep."  
  
"Lie down with me." She scooted over slightly and patted the bed. "You need to sleep as much as I do, and I want to feel you beside me."  
  
His mouth fell open in surprise as he looked at the wall behind her bed. "The bioreadings will be distorted."  
  
"I'm not in critical condition, so they aren't monitoring me closely." She glanced at her tightly wrapped shoulder. "Besides, the sensors are attached to my body. The only way the nurse will know you're here is if she sneaks in to look at me."  
  
"Kathryn . . . ." He hesitated, wondering if she was really thinking clearly or if she was simply overreacting to her injuries.  
  
"Please, Chakotay." She scooted over further, making room for him. "Please."  
  
He nodded, toeing off his shoes and lying down on his left side, his right arm pulling her close. "If you get me in trouble, I'm going to say you gave me a direct order."  
  
Her voice was heavy with sleep. "But you aren't in Starfleet any more."  
  
"Kathryn, in all the years we served together, I was never really a Starfleet officer."  
  
She chuckled. "That's right. You followed my orders because . . . ?" She looked at him in confusion. "Why did you follow my orders, Chakotay?"  
  
"You haven't forgotten, have you?" When he saw her bewildered look, he said, "Because with you, I found peace. You remember."  
  
The shared memory of their two-month exile returned to them, as did the electric moment when he'd pledged his loyalty to her, and she'd responded by clasping his hand in gratitude. Kathryn snuggled closer to him, sighing with satisfaction.  
  
"I wanted so much to tell you I felt the same peace and security with you, but I was still engaged to Mark, still hoping to find a cure and return to Voyager. The time just wasn't right."  
  
"And now it is?"  
  
"Yes. Now the time is right. Now I can tell you I love you."  
  
"Kathryn! Are you sure? We haven't seen each other in nearly three years, and we've only talked a dozen times in the last month." He pulled away from her, looking into her eyes. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."  
  
"I mean it." She studied his face. "How do you feel about me?"  
  
"I love you," he said without hesitation. "I've always loved you."  
  
"Then, that's all that matters." She closed the distance between them and relaxed. "It took awhile for me to put the captain's facade behind me once and for all, but I've managed to do it. And as soon as Kathryn reasserted herself, she wanted you."  
  
"Why didn't you contact me?"  
  
"You needed time to find yourself, too. I knew that. I just believed in my heart that we would find each other eventually." She winced slightly as she shifted her position.  
  
"The nurse said you needed some medication. Should I go get her?"  
  
Kathryn shook her head. "She was going to give me a sleep enhancer, but right now, I'm so warm and relaxed that I can hardly keep my eyes open. With you here, I feel safe."  
  
"Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up tomorrow." Soon, her breathing became regular as she slept. He kissed her hair and whispered, "Tomorrow and every day after."  
  
The End 


End file.
